Last Friday night I was thinking how nice it was going to be to recover from last week’s craziness at work, how we are going to use to whole weekend to do some hiking, bicycling and picnic with the kids, and we were even planning to go to the movies and have a romantic night with my husband on Saturday night, while the kiddos are sleeping over at Granny’s place.
But my plans went down the loo … literally speaking.
Quite soon after I fell asleep, my son came crawling up in my bed, telling me that his tummy hurt and soon we had to rush to the toilet. I’m telling you, it was everything from diarrhea to throwing up multiple times until it was dawn and he fell asleep in our bed, all eased up. Long after I couldn’t settle down, there was a whole lot of cleaning (even the darn walls) waiting for me, as not all the vomit reached the toilet, if you know what I mean .
Not that I ever feel happy about cleaning…
I cleaned and disinfected the house until early morning, and when I was just about to fall asleep, my other child came to our room, telling me to turn the TV on. Gosh!
Off I went to give her breakfast and play a dvd for her, and I actually got almost a hour’s sleep on the couch that morning.
We spent our weekend mostly inside the house, with a sick son and a naughty daughter, feeling even more tired on Sunday night. Blah…
Although my son is recovered now, I am more exhausted than ever, and desperately in need of some rest!
Isn’t it heartbreaking to watch your child suffer and not being able to help him/her? God, how I hate when they are sick!